At Last
by Old Fiat
Summary: When you love someone you'll do anything to protect them. A mostly plot driven story; 50s detective and later period noir inspired. Please read and review.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** At Last

**By:** Old Fiat n. Fr

**Summary:** When you love someone you'll do anything to protect them.

**Notes:** I wanted to do a Corny/Maybelle story with intrigue and with a plot other than them just getting together so here goes.

**Rating:** … with a capital T and that rhymes with P and that stands for Pool!

**Why:** Violence and some other stuff too.

**Currently listening to/watching:** The new _War of the Worlds_.

=-------=-------=-------=

**Chapter One**

"No, no, no!" Velma Von Tussle yelled before taking another long drag on her cigarette. "You twist and _then_ you mash-potato, not mash-potato then twist!" She glared at Becky for a long moment while the teenager shook nervously. "Now do it again," she said. "But this time, do it right."

Becky started to dance awkwardly while the rest of the Council just stared on. Finally, after messing up most of the steps, she broke down in tears. "I'm so sorry Mrs. Von Tussle!" She wailed. "It's because I sprained my ankle! I haven't gotten to practice in five days!"

Velma smiled, satisfied with herself, and continued to bully the poor girl.

Corny Collins was bored with this rehearsal. He sat in one of the more comfortable studio seats with his radio, trying, in vain, to care about what was going on in the world outside the sound-stage.

_"...And we're being told by the local, Baltimore area police that everyone should be extra-careful because the Washington serial rapist and murderer has apparently started in Baltimore. Two women, Maria Case and Louisa Brand were found dead in Pigtown—"_ Corny switched off the radio and yawned. Becky's legs were shaking while she danced uncomfortably with Bix. The rehearsals were always dull. He was only wasting his time there because he was waiting for Mona, one of the studio's make-up girls, to finish whatever she was doing so he could take her out.

"Poor girl."

Corny looked to his right and found Motormouth Maybelle Stubbs smiling at him, soft, dark arms akimbo.

"Yeah, but we all have to tussle with the Tussle sometimes. It's better it be now than during the _actual_ swimsuit episode." He yawned and Maybelle seated herself next to him.

"I've got a couple of records I'm sure would be perfect for the show," she said, confidentially. "I really think that you should give them a listen."

"Oh, yeah? Who by?"

"A boy called Little Stevie Wonder."

Corny snorted. "Miss Maybelle, I like a lot of this Hitsville stuff but to me..." She leaned in, expectantly. "...This sounds like a dead end."

She laughed. "I think it's pretty obvious that you haven't heard his record yet."

"Yeah, well," Corny didn't feel like making the swimsuit episode more complicated than it all ready was. He really loved the Motown sound and was intent on having the ex-_Negro Day_ kids do a song during the episode but he kind of liked the way that he used to do the swimsuit episode. He liked the idea of having Link sing something from _Blue Hawaii—_like "Rock-a-hula Baby" or something—and then having the kids dance to the Beach Boys or something of the like. "I'll give it a try but I've got a pretty great plan for how this episode's going to go."

"Let me think," Maybelle scratched her chin in a mock-pensive fashion. "Having watched the show for a couple of years now I'm going to take a stab at your plan." She paused, pretending to think deeply and then dropped it all for a bored and sarcastic expression. "You're going to have Link sing an Elvis song and then have the kids dance to the Beach Boys for the rest of the show. How original."

Corny squirmed. "Yeah, well, I'm not hearing any better ideas from you, Little Miss Stevie Wonder."

"Oh, I've got ideas," she grinned. "I've got loads of ideas that could make the show a lot less of a _Wonderbread_ tea-party."

"'_Wonderbread_ tea-party?' Are you serious?" Corny laughed. "That's not a bad idea." He pretended to consider it. "We might be able to get another sponsor!"

"Ha ha," she rolled her eyes. "But really, Corny, we could make this show a lot more lively and interesting if we wanted to."

"I don't know." He leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. "I don't think that the Von Tussle would approve of whatever you're thinking of."

"Aw, shucks! Well, that's just because she hates me!"

Corny laughed again. "Let me hear some of your ideas anyway. Maybe if _I_ present them to the Queen she'll be more _polite_ when turning them down."

Maybelle's ideas for the show were great and really did seem like they could liven things up. Corny was impressed. Maybelle went to her office (well, really it was a broom closet that, when Maybelle became Corny's co-host, Velma had cleared out and had written "Ms. Stubbs' Office" on a piece of paper she'd taped to the door) and brought back some records for him to listen to and maybe consider for the episode.

Corny examined the cover of the albums. One showed three girls, kind of like the Dynamites, in tight black dresses snapping their fingers. Another showed a young boy with big sunglasses on. One had a line of men snapping their fingers, like the girls, but these guys were wearing cool suits that were probably in exciting colors, had the album had cover-art in color. "I'll check these out," he said, straightening the stack before setting it on a nearby table. "Thanks."

"No problem, I really think some of this could bring in some more ratings." She winked.

"I've been pushing the rhythm and blues stuff for a while. Is this that kind of thing?" He gestured towards the records.

"Of course," she gave him a confused smile. "Don't you know anything?"

Corny looked at his hands. Maybelle was pretty easy to talk to but sometimes she made him feel kind of dumb. "Yeah, well, ask me about Sarah Vaughan and I can tell you whatever you want to know but ask me about Little Stevie Wonder and..." He shrugged.

Maybelle laughed pleasantly and he looked up at her. She really was pretty. He'd noticed this when she'd first auditioned to host _Negro Day_. Her voice was even and nice to listen to—understandable but quick and rounded. Her face was full of charm and character and she had an incredible—really just _great—_figure. He was glad to know her.

"Why are you staring at me?" She raised one eyebrow, still chuckling at his previous joke. "'Something wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing," Corny snapped out of his odd, brief reverie. "Listen, Maybelle, would you like to continue to discuss your show ideas at like a diner or—"

The _click-click-clack_ of cheap heels cut him off. "Corny! I'm ready for the drive-in!" Mona rushed over in her little, pink dress and red shoes.

Corny stood up and brushed off his jacket. "Great." He smiled and turned to Mrs. Stubbs who looked disorientated. "I'll... uh... see you tomorrow, Maybelle."

"Right," she smiled. She seemed disappointed; Corny wondered, for a moment, what about. "I'll see you then."

Mona put her arm in Corny's and began to stroke his sleeve. "Come on, Corny! We don't want to be late!"

Corny put his arm around her waist and headed for the exit, shooting one last smile at Maybelle.

The rehearsal continued and Maybelle watched it, a blank expression on her face.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** At Last

**By:** Old Fiat n. Fr

**Summary:** When you love someone you'll do anything to protect them.

**Notes:** I wanted to do a Corny/Maybelle story with intrigue and with a plot other than them just getting together so here goes.

**Rating:** … with a capital T and that rhymes with P and that stands for Pool!

**Why:** Violence and some other stuff too.

**Currently listening to/watching:** _The Simpsons_: season 9.

=-------=-------=-------=

**Chapter Two**

Cold beer. Corny didn't usually like his beer cold but it was an especially hot Sunday and he just needed something nice and cool in his throat.

He leaned back on the couch and put his feet up on the coffee table. The teevee was showing some program about a young couple. It was dull and they slept in separate beds, which was creepy. Corny changed the channel so he could watch the news. They were still talking about crime, which was boring if you weren't involved. He changed the channel again. Channel 5 was showing a western, which was actually worth the time of day.

Corny relaxed and took another sip of his beer. He was hungry but his apartment was devoid of all food except some old tartar sauce. He picked up his engraved, silver cigarette case from the table and pulled out a long, white coffin-nail. He turned over the cigarette case in his hands; it had been a present from his parent when he'd joined the army. God, that seemed so long ago.

He lit the cigarette and took a long drag on it. When he'd first started smoking, at about the age of sixteen, the smoke always felt rough when he inhaled and irritated his trachea. However, now it had a sort of soothing effect and, combined with the beer, made him relax just enough to sink a couple more inches into the sofa.

On the television some lady with enormous breasts was yelling at two bandits to stop fighting. The bandits were shooting guns at the sky while riding horses. Corny wondered at how well trained the horses had to be to just prance a little while gunshots—albeit, blanks—were being fired right next to their heads and not just go nuts and buck off the actors. He took another sip of his beer. Life was full of mysteries.

There was a knock at the door.

Corny sat up and turned off the teevee. Maybe, just maybe, if he was extra quiet they'd just leave him alone. It seemed to work with the phone.

They knocked again.

Corny groaned and stood up. He shuffled heavily over to the door and rubbed his eyes before looking through the peephole.

It was Mrs. Stubbs. Corny hadn't really expected a lady to be calling.

He quickly retied his robe and unlocked the door, pulling it open and putting on a charming smile. "Why hello Miss Maybelle. May I do something for you?"

She looked a tad more flustered than usual. "Yes, er, Corny. I was over at the studio straightening up my stuff and Velma came over and asked me to bring you these," she brandished a ream of forms, "to sign." She sighed heavily. "Sorry about that."

"About what?" Corny had become briefly distracted by her hair. "Oh, yeah, the forms! Do you want to come in?"

"Sure," she was still kind of flustered. "But just for a moment, okay?"

"O.K."

She stepped into the apartment. Corny took note of how carefully she placed her feet on the thin, slightly stained carpeting. She was about four feet into the room and didn't appear to want to go any further. Her chest was puffed up and she stood there, taking in the "splendor."

"Hey, do want a drink?" Corny scratched the back of his neck, nervously. He hadn't really had a woman in his apartment for business purposes in a long time. The last one had been Velma, and that hadn't really ended in business. Well, depends on what you call business. "I was going to shake up some martinis but if you want a margarita or something I've got the right stuff for that, too."

She was still just standing there, stick straight, looking around the room.

"Or, you know, I could get you something else..." He trailed off, hoping for some sort of response. She didn't seem to be listening at all; her eyes were focused on some of the posters by the television. Observing Corny's natural habitat from a distance.

Suddenly, she turned towards him, shaking her head a bit, as if finally coming to. "A martini would be great, thanks."

Corny was a little thrown. "Uh... okay." He stumbled, reaching for his shaker, which made him look like an idiot. "Do you want to sit down or something? The sofa's really..." he paused, trying to think of a word that wasn't 'filthy' or 'infested' or 'grimy' or, worse yet, 'reupholstered because of all the previous words.' Eventually, he found his mouth saying: "soft" which was somewhere near the other words, but not so close that she might actually get some kind of idea of what his life was really like—boring and gross.

Mrs. Stubbs moved over to the sofa and dropped down. After the early silence and stiffness she was suddenly relaxed. It was a bit confusing to Corny but he was more used to this Maybelle than the quiet and staring lady who couldn't move more than four feet past the door.

"You were working today?" He asked, trying to stimulate some conversation.

"Just organizing, really," she shrugged and leaned deeper into the couch. "I'm usually too busy with the record shop and all so any extra stuff I need to get done I just do on Sunday."

Corny was impressed. When he'd hosted a radio program at the beginning of his career he had worked every second of the week. Maybelle had been doing this stuff a bit longer than he had and she hadn't lost the momentum. What was wrong with him?

"How do you think the rehearsals are going for the swimsuit episode?" She asked, subtly yawning and stretching.

"That episode's always a circus." He started to shake their drinks. "The rehearsals go great but once you put a bunch of sweaty teenagers in tiny little pieces of cloth and make them dance around together... let's just say that things can go downhill very fast."

Maybelle chuckled and Corny poured their drinks.

=-------=-------=-------=

"...So then I slammed the door in her face and walked out!" Corny laughed and took a rather long sip of his drink.

Maybelle hadn't had as much to drink as he had but was appreciating Corny's studio (horror) stories nonetheless. Even though he appeared to have some kind of problem with everyone he worked with; she knew that everyone at the studio admired him. If Corny was ever in any sort of trouble she knew that he'd have at least a one-hundred man army of WYZT employees right behind him.

"How did your date with Mona go?" She inquired.

"Oh...." Corny laughed heavily and rolled his head around on his neck. "You know, these make-up girls..." he ran one sweaty hand through his mussed up hair and sighed. "They... don't really get it... you know? They kind of... just... I used to just want girls that were pretty and easy." He raised his glass to his mouth and took a noisy gulp. "Now... I don't know... things are just different—maybe I'm just getting old. I want a woman who's... smart. You know? Someone I can talk to for more than five minutes without wanting to shoot myself... you know, a lady like... you, or something."

Maybelle blinked incredulously and stared at Corny. He was sitting there, sweating and slouched. His mouth was slightly open and his eyes were a mixture of fear and understanding.

Maybelle was trying to think of something to say—anything—but before she could even get the air to say it Corny had leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers.

The kiss was sweet and non-intrusive. His lips were soft and somewhat moist.

When Corny pulled back he still had that somewhat frightened look. Maybelle was too shocked to know what to say.

"Miss Maybelle... I... I'm sorry about that," he looked down at his hands. "You have to know... I mean," he laughed nervously and wiped at his mouth. "It's pretty obvious that I... I mean... since you first auditioned I've always kind of had this..." he gestured vaguely with his drink, "thing for you. I..." He just sort of trailed off looking at her and waiting for her response.

She really didn't know what to say. Her relationship with Corny before this had always been very professional. She supposed he was drunk and that would explain this. Judging by his anecdotes this wasn't exactly unusual behavior for him.

However, when she looked at his face again she saw something that almost never crossed that handsome visage: sincerity.

This was it.

"I love you, too, Corny."

He lopsidedly smiled and laughed. "Really?"

"Yes."

And the moment this word had left her mouth, he kissed her again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** At Last

**By:** Old Fiat n. Fr

**Summary:** When you love someone you'll do anything to protect them.

**Notes:** I wanted to do a Corny/Maybelle story with intrigue and with a plot other than them just getting together so here goes.

**Rating:** … with a capital T and that rhymes with P and that stands for Pool!

**Why:** Violence and some other stuff too.

**Currently listening to/watching:** I watched _The Girl on the Red Velvet Swing_ (1955) last night. Farley Granger actually gave a good performance. By good, I mean amazing. Ray Milland was also just incredible and Joan Collins was gorgeous. However, I think that they made White more sympathetic than he was in reality because of Evelyn Nesbit's involvement in the production.

=-------=-------=-------=

**Chapter Three**

The week that followed was nothing short of bliss. Though Maybelle and Corny both knew that if the details of their relationship got out they would be practically blacklisted from the entire east-coast, they still managed to go places together in a seemingly professional manner so that no one would be suspicious.

When Corny had returned to the studio on Monday, IQ and the make-up girls had taken note of the new spring in his step. Mona credited this to herself and all of her colleagues were impressed. After the day's episode had wrapped, he and Maybelle went to a nearby diner and discussed desegregation over greasy hamburgers and salty fries.

Tuesday afternoon had been mostly occupied with Corny's mother trying to set him up with some naïve eighteen year old from the club. He had turned her down politely before returning home to give Little Stevie a listen with Maybelle. Though he had protested at first, saying that the kid's name sounded like a sideshow act, after the first three bars Corny couldn't get enough.

Corny played bartender on Wednesday, mixing up some Whiskey Sours (from his own recipe). They drank to everyone else's ignorance.

Seaweed interrogated Maybelle on Thursday, wondering why she'd been going out so much in the evenings that week. She had responded by saying that that was none of his business and that he should be taking care of his little sister, not snooping on his mama. Seaweed, disgruntled, had returned to his position behind the counter at the record shop and had said no more. She and Corny perched on a hill near the drive-in and watched _The Music Man_ with Corny's radio picking up the audio track. They watched the stars to "'Till There Was You."

Friday had been a long day, filled with more rehearsals for the swimsuit episode. Corny had presented the records he intended to play to Velma, including Little Stevie Wonder, and she had grudgingly accepted. Since the shows integration, everything Velma Von Tussle did was "grudgingly." Later, at Corny's apartment, he and Maybelle had made Old Bay seasoned crab cakes and ate them together with a lot of beer and lime wedges.

It was Saturday and after the show had finished Corny was "contractually obligated" to assist the Council Members with their homework (the measure had been instated by Commissar for Madness, Velma Von Tussle because of the dropping grade-point-average of the Council).

As he sat there, watching Amber try desperately to comprehend basic mathematical concepts (**a** plus** b** is **c**, what is **b** plus **a**?), he reflected on the last couple of days. Corny Collins was known to most of Baltimore's inhabitants over the age of eighteen as a real lady-killer. He was usually a three pack a day and three girls a week (if he was being lazy) kind of guy. Somehow, Miss Maybelle left him always wanting more of her, not someone else.

It was kind of refreshing, later in the day, that he could go to confession and not have _as _much to confess as usual. Father Riley had been pleased, but, then again, Corny had left out all the details of Maybelle's appearance. He only got thirty _Hail Mary_s, as opposed to the usual two-hundred.

When he returned home he got himself a beer and sat down on the sofa. He felt good.

=-------=-------=-------=

Maybelle, on the other hand, was not required to help the Council with their homework. She supposed it was because Mrs. Von Tussle thought her of lesser intelligence or something bigoted and ignorant like that.

When she entered the record store she greeted her employees, Angie Taylor and Carol Lynn, and started preparing dinner for herself, Seaweed and lil' Inez. The past week had been one of the best in her life. Corny wasn't demanding of her time at all; he'd completely understood when she'd needed to go take care of the kids or manage the shop. He'd been wonderful, adult company. She hadn't really been able to hang out with many adult males at all in the past ten years, mostly just other women from the surrounding neighborhood. It was a nice change and he was a great person.

However, there was a downside to it all. While Maybelle loved just being with Corny, they both knew the dangers that their relationship posed to their careers. Corny had been the most worried about this, saying that if Mrs. Von Tussle or Mr. Spritzer found out he'd be fired in a heartbeat. Maybelle knew, though, that if Mrs. Von Tussle or Mr. Spritzer found out Corny would be slapped around the face a couple of times but that she would be the one who would get the boot.

She had weighed the pros and cons repeatedly in her head during the past week and she reached the conclusion that the pros, by far, outweighed the cons.

She was in love—real love, mutual love—and she was so high from happiness that she felt as if she were sitting on top of a mushroom cloud over the potential destruction their relationship could wreak.

"Mama, I think the peas are burning."

Maybelle jumped and saw lil' Inez standing there, hands on hips, one eyebrow raised and staring at her mother's shocked expression. "Don't creep up on me like that, honey!" Maybelle got some more water from the sink and put it on the slightly blackened peas, trying to regain her composure.

"I've been standing here for five minutes," lil' Inez still had one eyebrow raised far above the other. "Is something wrong? Why are you looking all dreamy eyed?"

"Nothing's wrong, honey, I'm fine," Maybelle turned off the gas on the stove-top and drained the peas before putting them in a bowl.

Seaweed entered the room, looking a bit confused. "Mama, Corny Collins _of the Corny Collins' Show_," he mocked Corny's standard telephone introduction, "wants to speak with you; he's on the phone now."

Maybelle brushed her hands off on her apron and instructed Inez and Seaweed to start eating. She walked quickly into the living room and picked the phone up off the table. "Hello?"

"_Hey_. Any plans for this evening?"

She sighed. Maybelle knew that Corny was understanding but that still didn't make turning him down any easier. "I'm sorry, Corny, but I just put dinner on the table and after that I'm going to a party with the kids."

"No problem." Corny paused before continuing to speak. Maybelle could tell he was trying to come up with a new plan. "What about tomorrow night?"

"I don't know." She liked being coy. "What do you have in mind?"

"I was going to say us—around one o'clock in the morning, at the park near my place—having a post-midnight snack and maybe playing some golf. What do you say?"

Maybelle had to wonder where Corny came up with these ideas. Dates with Corny weren't just romantic or sexy, they were also extremely fun. "I guess I'll see you then."

"Great. See you later." She could hear the smugness over the phone.

"Bye-bye, now." She waited until he hung up before doing so herself.

She returned to the kitchen, brushing off Seaweed's question by saying that Mr. Collins only wanted to talk about the swimsuit episode, and spent a wonderful evening with her children. She couldn't wait for the events of the following night. Everything was just perfectly calm when she went to bed. Her life was just getting better every day.


	4. Chapter 4

**Title:** At Last

**By:** Old Fiat n. Fr

**Summary:** When you love someone you'll do anything to protect them.

**Notes:** I wanted to do a Corny/Maybelle story with intrigue and with a plot other than them just getting together so here goes.

**Rating:** … with a capital T and that rhymes with P and that stands for Pool!

**Why:** Violence and some other stuff too.

**Currently listening to/watching:** Nothing. Though that could change at any time.

**Brief:** This chapter might be somewhat too violent for some of you (which is why it's rated T) so I just thought I'd warn you in advance. I don't think that this exceeds the T rating, but I thought it would be best to tell you so that if you're sensitive to that kind of thing you will be better prepared to deal with it. Thank you for your time.

=-------=-------=-------=

**Chapter Four**

"I'm sorry, have you ever even held a golf club before?" Corny rolled up his shirt sleeves and raised an eyebrow pointedly at Maybelle.

"Excuse me for not being one of your country club buddies." Maybelle laughed before beckoning him closer. "Why don't you show me?"

A wide grin spread across Corny's face before he wrapped his arms around her torso, placing his hands on top of hers. Maybelle gave a little shiver as he adjusted her hold on the club. Guiding her, he gently tapped the ball and it slowly went into the sideways tumbler (Corny had brought it along since the park wasn't actually a golf-course).

"Now, you try." He let go of her before removing his ball from the tumbler and dropping a new one on the ground in front of her.

Maybelle had been just a bit mesmerized during Corny's brief instructions. While she still had her hands correctly positioned, she had somehow managed to forget the distance of the tumbler from her. As her eyes went from the glistening moonlit grass up to the moon itself she swung the club way over her head and shot the ball clear across the park into the fountain at the other end. "Oh my word!" She put a hand to her mouth, shocked and amused at her blunder. "I really don't think that golf is my game."

"Lord," Corny laughed out loud and picked up his club before starting his long trek to retrieve the ball. "I'll get it and you can try again. We just won't count that one!" He started to hasten his steps and disappeared behind a hill, the fountain glimmering in the distance.

Maybelle yawned and leaned against the club Corny had loaned her. It was around two thirty and she was just a little bit fatigued. She was enjoying the date but she probably should have consumed more coffee before leaving the house. She yawned again and shut her eyes momentarily. She opened them to see Corny walking purposefully towards the fountain. She smiled to herself as she watched him: his handsome, confident stride; his sculpted, glorious form; his sprayed-to-perfection hair; his adorable little rear; his—

Maybelle's thoughts were interrupted by a rustling noise behind her. She spun around, fear and anxiety joining forces in her head. If anyone caught her out here she knew that there would be no explanation that could save her from getting fired.

Her eyes darted around the trees and shrubbery she faced. She couldn't see anyone. She would have gone in for a closer look but she didn't really feel safe doing that without Corny being there.

She could feel herself sweating coldly under her dress. She was absolutely positive that she'd heard something. She prayed silently that it just be a rabbit or one of the neighborhood cats. After a few seconds, she'd managed to convince herself that it must have been one of those and felt comfortable enough to turn her back on the greenery.

She shut her eyes and leaned heavily on the golf club, trying hard to even her breathing and qualm her cold shivers. She finally relaxed and the tiredness returned, causing her to yawn again.

There was another noise behind her, this one more like the crack of a twig or a small branch. All of Maybelle's fears returned as she felt a large hand press against her shoulder.

She turned to see a tall, tanned, white man wearing a charcoal fedora, a dark suit, and a long, black trench coat that was torn and appeared to have multiple stains on it. The man's smile was wide and thin and was smeared across his face. His nose was slight but looked as though it had been broken multiple times. His eyebrows were pale and sparse. His irises were pale but almost entirely eclipsed by his massively dilated pupils and one eye wasn't looking in exactly the same direction as the other.

As Maybelle stared into those eyes she didn't feel any sort of human connection; it didn't even feel as though the man was looking at her or had noticed her staring. They seemed empty and blank, but dangerous and cold-blooded. They were like the eyes of a crazed-horse, enigmatic, incomprehensible and, ultimately, harmful.

Maybelle felt her lungs fill, by instinct, and her throat open as a scream or cry tried to make its way out. However, before any sound could issue forth, a large, hard, wet fist had already slammed itself against her cheekbone and knocked her to the grass.

The man bent down quickly, pulling some white, cotton gloves on his hands and grabbing her ankles.

Maybelle tried to struggle against the excruciating pain that was driving through her head. It felt like the skin had split from the blow and some of the blood was sticking her hair to her face. She looked at the man, who was, at that moment, trying to hold her knees open and push up her skirt. She knew that if she didn't move quickly she wouldn't be able to escape.

She kicked the man as hard as she could in the shoulder, sending him back a yard. She scrambled into a standing position, feeling her head spin. She had to move.

She began to try and run away but all her body was able to give her was a shambling, slow heavy walk.

Before she had moved two paces the man had come to his feet. He grabbed her shoulders and turned her to face him. His eyes still dead and animal-like. She started to try and scream again but he grabbed her hair roughly with his left hand and pulled so hard that she barely choke out a breath. With his right hand the man grabbed her left leg and pulled it up so hard and so fast that Maybelle was sure she felt a tendon tear.

Her head was aching and her eyes were swimming in burning, salty tears. She stared at the man's face as he said, slowly and very clearly:

"And now, beautiful woman, I am going to—"

His words were cut off as a fist slammed into the left side of his head. He instantly let go of her and dropped to the ground, howling like a wounded beast.

Beyond the agonizing tears, Maybelle saw Corny Collins, standing there with his golf-club in his left hand and his right balled up into a bloody fist.

She wiped her eyes quickly with her skirt and was going to rush over to him and thank him, though she wasn't entirely sure how to express the enormous and all consuming gratitude she felt towards him. She smiled as tears of relief poured down her cheeks. "Corny, I—"

But Corny just shoved a hand roughly against her sternum, pushing her back a few feet and moved towards the man on the ground.

Maybelle was more than a bit hurt and started to call his name again but he didn't respond. As Corny raised the club over his head, she stared at his face. His head was flushed crimson and his eyes had the same blank, dead, and inexplicably dangerous expression that the attacker's had had. She felt herself choke as she stared at him: "Corny, what the hell are you—?"

Corny brought the club down onto the man's torso. The man shrieked as three of his ribs broke. Maybelle covered her mouth in terror as the man continued to scream, writhing in pain. Corny moved to the man's face, hitting it again and again and again, faster and faster until the man's writhing stopped. Corny continued to hit the unrecognizable, cadaverous form a few more times until he finally dropped his club and backed away from the corpse.

Maybelle looked at Corny through her wet eyes. He was sweating and shaking and she saw something shiny fall from one of his hands, though she couldn't tell whether it was sweat or blood. Whatever it was, it fell heavily to the ground and Corny didn't seem to notice.

Though she was afraid to do so, Maybelle looked up at Corny's face. Corny's eyes were wide and the cold, carnal expression had been replaced with one of loss and extreme remorse. Heavy tears streaked his face and he slowly dropped to his knees, his face crumpling as he went.

He sobbed.

Maybelle wanted to go forward and comfort him. She wanted to put her shoulder under his screwed up face and let him bawl into it. She wanted to thank him for saving her life. She wanted to comfort him and tell him that it was going to be okay. She wanted to hold his tie back as he threw up repeatedly on the grass. She wanted to do all of those things, but she couldn't. She just stood there and stared as he gasped for breath after retching all over the ground.

Corny finally slowed down his breathing and shook his head roughly, sweat beads flying off of his drenched hair.

Maybelle just watched.

Corny breathed heavily for a few more moments and then turned to look at Maybelle, as though he'd only just realized she was there. He looked lost and frightened but appeared to be somehow warmed by her presence.

"M-Maybelle," he managed to stutter out, wiping vomit from the sides of his mouth. "We-we need to hi-hide the body..." He trailed off at the sight of Maybelle's stony expression. "M-Maybelle?"

She started to walk slowly away, trying not to scream at what she had just witnessed.

Corny got to his feet as quickly as he could and put his hand on her shoulder, stopping her walking. "Maybelle, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"Don't touch me ever again, Corny Collins!" She yelled at him. He was startled and seemed to be trying to read her. She didn't want to be read. She wanted to go home, bathe and cry.

"Maybelle, please, don't—"

"Don't touch me! I never want to speak to you again!" She grabbed his hand and threw it off her shoulder before storming out of the park and wrenching open the door to her car. She sat down, feeling nauseous, and slammed the door.

Maybelle drove away as quickly as she could, leaving Corny sweaty, sick, scared and entirely alone.


End file.
